To Rule the World
by waywardprincess
Summary: They say a bad apple can rot the entire batch. That a bad kid can ruin a good child. They called it manslaughter, but it was murder. Sylvia Drake's sickness wasn't the average cold. (Pre-Beautifully Dark Places. One-shot. Credit to NightSkyWolves!)


**To Rule the World  
**Chapter 1  
_Young and Stupid_

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Contrary to most nights in Wizard City, tonight was foggy and cold. The light from the moon was fuzzy and filtered through the white clouds that had rolled in about midday. The wind howled through the trees, which had lost their leaves in the ever-going battle between seasons. It was drizzling slightly, but not enough to turn the dusty floors of the forest into mud.

The forest was overall very healthy for nature in the winter. Of course, that was probably due to the fact that this was the plot of land behind the Life professor's, Sylvia Drake, home. Any student of her's—no matter whether they slept in class or doodled the entire time—could tell you her biggest rule: be kind to nature.

There was, as in any school, a rivalry between classes. Life and Death were the biggest of these rivalries at one time, until the professors of the two schools were married. Their marriage had been a very happy one, and many of the students hoped to one day be as happy as the couple were.

But, as in any story, happiness doesn't last long.

The light from the circular object in the sky illuminated the two figures that stood in a small clearing behind Sylvia's house. It posed to reason how the two could have even gotten into Sylvia's estate, being that Wizard homes were locked to everyone except those who held keys to open the portal to it. These were not two normal people, though. Many people regarded them as the brightest minds of their generation. Professor Malistaire Drake had doted upon his pupil many times, though he would have been furious to see such as scene as this.

"A-are you sure this is a good idea, Gene?" A pre-teen Malorn Ashthorn questioned the girl beside him. He was kneeled on one black satin covered knee, with one hand on the lush green of the grass and one hand clutched around the bark of his newest staff.

The girl, who was all of about 4'5" and made up where her height lacked with her temper, nodded quickly. Gene—which was short for Genevieve, a classic Dragonspyre family name—had her arms crossed across her flat chest and regarded the older boy with a firm look. "I thought we agreed on this, Malorn. Stop being such a chicken."

"I am _not _a chicken!" Malorn hissed back quietly, careful not to ruin their plans with an overly loud defensive remark. The response he received was the dark headed girl flapping her arms at him and making chicken noises. He waved her away with an eye roll and picked his staff up a few inches from the ground. He glanced at her quickly.

"Just do it," Gene ushered, pulling at her tunic as she spoke in her usual heavy accent. Apprentice clothes were almost as uncomfortable as they were over-rated. For some strange reason, they had been crafted to fit the Krokotopian style—which was quickly going out of fashion. Gene threw a lock of her hair over her shoulder and straightened up. "It'll be funny. What's the worse that's going to happen?"

The words seemed too old to come from a twelve-year-old. Though, being only a year older than her, Malorn didn't question it too much. Instead, he took the staff in both hands, mumbled a few words under his breath, and brought the staff down on the ground.

Nothing seemed to happen for a few minutes, but that would be fitting. Death wasn't like its counterpart; it happened slowly, numbly in the dead of the night. It was the silent killer that crept into the village and slaughtered a thousand without a trace. It was the balance to an ever-changing and growing world.

If one was to look close enough, however, it could be detected. There, in the small clearing, death made its home. The bark on the trees around them—ash, maple, oak, and even some birch—began to curl up on itself, leaving long tears like claw marks. The grass withered away, slowly, from green to a dull brown-gray. The wildlife, from birds to squirrels, scurried away before they, too, were caught up in death's grasp.

Gene nodded in satisfaction as the infection continued to grow in radius. She then took out the small stick she had wedged between her belt and her pants and mumbled something in a foreign language. The end of the wand glowed red hot, like a new cinder, and then flames leapt from the end of it and clawed to the tree tops. In minutes, the forest was dying and being eaten up by the fire.

Sylvia, who had been relaxing in her den and fell asleep with her mint copy of _Clovers and Gold: Everything You Need to Know About Housing Leprechauns _resting on her face, was awoken by the spooked whinnies of the Unicorn that resided in her backyard. She jumped in alarm, sending the book to the floor and bending the uncreased pages. Outside, she could see the flicker of fire in the canopy of the trees, and nearly knocked a chair over in her rush to her backdoor.

The Theurgist had never been happier that Professor Balestrom had taught most of the professors at Ravenwood a few spells. With a quick wave of her wand, the clouds that already littered the sky ripped open and flowed down from the heavens in tiny droplets of water. The fire didn't withstand it, thankfully. Now, the infection that had continued spreading through the forest was not hindered by the rain. _That _was a Theurgist's job.

Sylvia started into the forest, one hand shielding her glasses from the rain and one waving her maple wand and different points of the infectious death. After about ten minutes, she was halfway into the forest, soaked, and shivering from the frigid temperatures. So far, she hadn't seen anyone around who could have started the fires or the death. Genevieve and Malorn had retreated to the far edges of the property, where the death was yet to spread.

"Are you sure this is a good idea? Maybe we should go help—" Malorn was cut off by a severe look from the black-haired girl beside him. "I mean, it's cold, and wet now…"

"So what? She's a Life wizard. She can just make herself better. Big deal."

The whispers from the two were muffled by the leaves of the holly bush they hid behind. Sylvia continued waving her wand, though now she was coughing and visibly shivering. Malorn had the distinct feeling they had taken things way too far, but he also knew he wasn't prepared to accept the consequences of his actions.

"I-is anyone o-out there?" Sylvia's teeth chattered as she called out, pointing her wand at the last spot of the infection. "I-I'm going to call the H-Headmaster if you don't co-come out."

Malorn moved slightly before Gene caught him by the sleeve and shook her head quickly. "You'll get yourself expelled, you idiot." She hissed, accent heavy enough to make the words difficult to understand. Dragonspyre accents were always made more prominent with anxiety.

"What have we gotten ourselves into?" Malorn breathed into his fist, sending her an annoyed look.

"V-very well. I'l go c-call him." Sylvia turned away, trudging through the now muddy terrain to her home. Malorn turned to glare at his friend, only to find her walking toward the portal they had entered through. _Wouldn't she know to look there? _Malorn wondered. But, just as he always had, the Necromancer followed the Pyromancer to the portal, and only glanced back at Sylvia Drake's home one last time.

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**A/N: Credit to NightSkyWolves for Genevieve! I couldn't find your account to PM you, but if you read this PM me!**

**I honestly didn't mean to write this but it happened so hERE! I meant to write fanfiction of a game I liked two years ago and my God I forgot how detailed I had these characters (I mean Malorn and the boys, mostly) but gosh it's nice to be back! I'm thinking of writing several prequels to Beautifully Dark Places and this is one of them, I think. This would probably make more sense if you read the other one (WARNING: I'm doing revisions on BDP because I wrote it when I was 16 and my writing was eww) but it's definitely not necessary. **


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